


Princess Arthur

by QueenThayet



Series: Princess Arthur [2]
Category: Inception (2010), The Princess Diaries - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Drunk Sex, Fluff, M/M, Princess Diaries AU, Tiny bit of plot, accidentally married, consensual drunk sex, drunk marriage, secret royal, sometimes adults plan to get drunk and then have sex, vegas marriages are real, which is probably the more consequential thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25636732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/pseuds/QueenThayet
Summary: Arthur and Eames get married in Vegas. Turns out Vegas weddings are legal weddings. Also one of them might be a member of the Genovian Royal Family. As they frantically try to get permission to stay married, they fall totally in love.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Series: Princess Arthur [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858423
Comments: 22
Kudos: 52
Collections: Inception Big Bang 2020





	1. What Happens in Vegas...

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a drabble in the quarantine drabble contest and I liked it so much I had to write a whole fic. This is multiple chapters, I'm posting the first today for the Inception Big Bang fest along with the art by my AMAZING artists! New chapters should go up once a week on Saturdays. 
> 
> You can see the full art from my amazing artists: theodoresart and dreaminghigher on their tumblers! 
> 
> https://theodoresart.tumblr.com/post/625182055388626944/my-art-for-inceptionbigbang-from-queenthayets
> 
> https://dreaminghigher.tumblr.com/post/625181109429370880/the-princes-of-geneva
> 
> Thank you to Amy for her encouragement and beta skills.

“Fuck Josh Worthington!” Arthur said, raising his glass to Ariadne.

“Fuck ‘im!” She echoed.

“Fuck Worthington, Worthington, Price, and Cobb!”

“Fuck ‘em!” 

“Fuck that horrible place and those terrible people and that soul-sucking job!” 

“To your new life!” Ariadne drunkenly cheered.

“Huzzah!” 

Arthur had been upset about losing his job, but three drinks in, he was starting to see it as the opportunity Ariadne insisted it was. 

“I always made such good decisions; I always made the smart decisions. I worked my ass off for that job, and they still dumped me as soon as the partners had smaller profit margins.” Arthur made a hand sign to indicate the partners having small penises. 

“You’re starting your new life! You know what you should do?” Ariadne said, excitedly. “You should do whatever you want and ignore the sensible Arthur voice in your head that says something is a bad idea.” 

“It feels like there’s something wrong with that logic, but I’m a little drunk right now, so I’m going with it.” 

“Oooh, I think I see your first bad idea now,” Ariadne said, jumping up off her stool as they were approached by a tall, attractive man in an extremely loud but well-made suit.

“Fuck, that suit is hideous!” Arthur exclaimed. 

“I know, isn’t it fabulous?” the man responded. He had an accent. A really sexy accent. “It’s like a baby monkey where it’s so ugly it’s adorable.” 

“I don’t think that works with clothes,” Ariadne said, tilting her head, trying to see the suit from a new angle. 

“It does,” the man reassured her. 

“It really fucking doesn’t,” Arthur argued. 

“It’s so expensive it’s trendy?” one of the man’s friends said with a shrug.

“That’s even worse. If you’re going to spend that much on a quality suit, why would you want it to look like _that_?” Arthur gestured at the suit in horror. 

“I must be introduced to this connoisseur of menswear,” the man said, holding out his hand. “Eames.” 

“This is Arthur, and I’m Ariadne,” Ari jumped in as Arthur looked at Eames’ outstretched hand and cocked an eyebrow. 

“I mean, you should definitely want to get to know me, maybe my fashion sense will rub off on you. But I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to hang out with you.” 

Eames gave a full-throated laugh. “Well, you’ll have to allow me to try to change your mind about me rubbing off on you,” he leered. 

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he felt a smile sneaking past his lips. This was absolutely the last thing that he should do.

“Fuck it, let’s do this,” Arthur said, throwing back the rest of his drink.

***

“Oh my god, you’re on fire!” Arthur cheered along with Yusuf and Robert (Eames’ friends) as Eames won another hand of craps. 

“You must be my lucky charm, darling,” Eames said, pulling Arthur in for a kiss before holding out the dice for Arthur to blow on again. 

***

“Darling! A roller coaster! At night! I don’t recall the last time I’ve been on a roller coaster!” Eames exclaimed. 

“This is such a terrible idea,” Arthur said. “I’ve had way too much alcohol for this to be a good idea.” 

“Then it’s not working!” Ariadne said. “You're supposed to be drinking alcohol to encourage you to go through with terrible ideas.” 

“I bet Eames will hold your hand,” Robert said, slyly. 

“You’re not subtle,” Eames said as he took Arthur’s hand. 

“Neither are you, mate,” Robert responded. 

Arthur blushed slightly and said, “Okay, fine.” 

They got in line for the rollercoaster. 

***

“What about the space show thing, what’s it called, Star Trek? With the people with the wrinkly foreheads and pointy ears? Can we do that?” Eames asked, snapping his fingers as he tried to remember what he was talking about. 

“Okay, well first, the people with the wrinkly foreheads are Klingons and the people with the pointy ears are Vulcans, and second, the Star Trek Experience closed several years ago.” 

“No!” Eames said, his face falling. 

“Sorry,” Arthur said. 

“I don’t care where we go, I need food!” Ariadne said hangrily. 

***

“Darling, you know what we should do?”

“What?” 

“We should get married at one of those funny costume chapel things! We’re in Vegas! Isn’t that what everyone does?” Eames said. 

“Oh, oh, there’s one where the guy is dressed like he’s from the band KISS! You have to go to that one!” Yusuf said excitedly as he read from phone. 

Arthur though about it briefly and then decided that his night had gone pretty well so far by doing the opposite of what he normally would have done. Getting married in Vegas was pretty much the most anti-Arthur thing he could think of doing. 

“Absolutely! I’m in!” 

***

“This was the best idea ever,” Arthur mumbled against Eames’ lips as they staggered back to Eames’ hotel suite. 

“Less talking, more kissing,” Eames ordered.

“Oh, don’t mind us, the third, fourth, and fifth wheels over here,” Ariadne snarked. 

“No one’s forcing you to stay,” Arthur pulled off of Eames for a second to address his friend. 

“Room key?” Ariadne asked. 

“Yeah, here,” Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out the key card to hand to Ari. 

Eames hungrily pulled Arthur back to him, capturing his mouth once again before moving them in the direction of the hotel room. Arthur stumbled backwards until Eames had him pushed up against the door and immediately began grinding against him. 

A quiet, but pointed cough made Arthur open his eyes and notice that Eames’ friends, Robert and Yusuf were still there, awkwardly trying not to watch them. 

“Piss off you two, this is about to be a honeymoon suite,” Eames growled. 

“That was our room too, mate,” Yusuf said. 

“Get another one, just have them put it on my bill,” Eames said before turning back to Arthur. 

There was another cough before Eames could begin kissing him again, however. 

“Our bags?” Robert said, lips pursed.

“Some friends you are, bound and determined to spoil my wedding night,” Eames grumbled as he fished around in his pockets for the room key. “Get your stuff and get out if you don’t want a show.”

Eames pulled Arthur directly to one of the bedrooms and began peeling him out of his clothes. 

“Oh, thank god, I can finally get you out of this horrible suit,” Arthur said as he scrabbled with Eames’ buttons. 

“That sort of sweet talk right there is how you got me to marry you in Vegas,” Eames teased. 

“It was clearly the only way I was going to get you out of the suit,” Arthur shot back. 

“Mmm, you obviously missed all of the subtle hints I was dropping you, darling. You could have gotten me out of this suit anytime you wanted.” 

“Oh yes, extremely subtle. How about this: take off your clothes, I want your cock. That subtle enough for you?” Arthur ordered.

“Your wish is my command,” Eames said, dropping his trousers and briefs. His cool composure lasted approximately .8 seconds as Arthur dropped to his knees and swallowed him down. Eames was thrown off balance by the hot, wet perfection of Arthur’s mouth and he stumbled slightly. Of course, his pants were still around his ankles so that slight stumble turned into tripping and suddenly he was sprawled out on the floor with Arthur laughing at him. 

“Are you okay?” Arthur chuckled as he stood up and held out a hand for Eames.

“I don’t think you’re meant to be laughing at me during sex,” Eames pouted. 

“No?” Arthur said, pulling Eames toward the actual bed. “I bet you can find a better use for my mouth.”

***

Eames woke up to his phone ringing. It took him a few minutes to figure out what the noise was, but luckily it didn’t disturb Arthur. 

“What?” Eames hissed into the phone as he carefully eased his way out of bed.

“Your highness, with all due respect, I’m going to wring your neck.” The voice of Mallorie, his PR specialist echoed in his ears. 

“Do you know what time it is?” Eames asked, stumbling over to the coffee maker. 

“It’s three in the afternoon.”

“Maybe there, but here it’s extremely early,” Eames yawned. “It was a bit of late night.” 

“Oh, I know. Did that late night involve getting married by any chance?” Mal said with false sweetness that suggested a trap. Eames wasn’t awake enough to try to figure out how to avoid it.

“Just the Vegas way, it’s not a big deal, Mal. How did you even know about that? Did the paps really report on all the touristy things I did?”

“No, just on your completely unexpected, unplanned, and unapproved marriage to an American man who you seemingly just met.” 

“It was just a Las Vegas marriage, I don’t understand the big deal,” Eames said crankily while he waited for the coffee to brew. 

“Your highness, I’ll use small words. A Las Vegas marriage is a legal marriage. You got married last night.” Eames could hear her fury through the phone. He wisely said nothing. 

“This is an absolute catastrophe. Her Majesty, the Queen, is extremely displeased that you would marry without her permission, let alone to someone you don’t even know. In short, this is very, very bad for you.” 

“A legal marriage?” Eames said, almost dropping the phone as he processed what Mal was telling him. 

“Yes.”

“Fuck.” 

“Okay, well, if you didn’t consummate the marriage, I may be able to look into an annulment. I’m sure I can fix this.” Mal said, back into business mode. 

“Yeah, well _that’s_ not an option, Mal,” Eames responded, annoyed.

“You may need to get a divorce, then. I hope this isn’t a long process. Shite, America has all those marriage property laws. I hope your spouse doesn’t decide to make this difficult. Is Nevada a community property state?” 

“I don’t know the bloody laws…” Eames started. 

“You’ve made that blindingly obvious, your highness,” Mal said dryly. 

“Yes, thank you for that brilliant insight. Okay, well, you go find out and I’m going to go have breakfast with my husband.” 

***

“So, Prince of Genovia?” Arthur asked a bit later. The coffee was cold, but he had been _very_ thoroughly vetted.

“Yeah, I’d apologize for not telling you, but I didn’t quite realize that we were getting legally married,” Eames said sheepishly. 

“Where is Genovia, anyway? I thought I was decent at geography but I don’t remember that one.” 

“Oh, we’re one of those little microstates in Europe, right between France and Switzerland. We’re mostly known for our pears.” 

“I like pears,” Arthur said awkwardly.

“That’s good. Can’t be married to Genovian royalty if you don’t like pears,” Eames joked. He paused while he waited for Arthur to collect his thoughts. 

“So, you weren’t supposed to get married. Especially not to an American commoner I imagine. I understand if you need to get a divorce. It was probably a little naïve for me to think that making a series of impulsive, drunken decisions would work out,” Arthur said sadly. 

“I mean, I’m sure that’s what the family will want me to do, but… I don’t really want to get divorced.” Eames said hesitantly. “I’m kind of the family fuck up, but I like you. We just sort of clicked, you know? And our chemistry is off the charts. And if Harry can marry an American commoner, no reason I shouldn’t be able to. I don't want to lose you already. I just, I have a good feeling about us.”

“Yeah, I kind of have a good feeling about us too,” Arthur said thoughtfully.

“Right? Anyway, I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you would be willing to come back with me to Genovia, we might be able to convince my family and make this work. If you want?” Eames asked hopefully.

“Well, I just got laid off from the law firm where I worked, so I’m a bit at loose ends right now. Seems like fate,” Arthur said. “I need to stop by my apartment and get some stuff, and my cat, but yeah, let’s go to Genovia.” 

“You probably don’t need to bring much. Granny will probably arrange to give you a whole makeover. It’s sort of what she does.”

“You haven’t gotten to see them yet, but the suits were the only good part of my job. You’ll be glad that I brought them, I promise,” Arthur assured Eames. 

“Well then, off to your flat and then, Genovia!”

***


	2. ...still counts in Genovia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eames brings Arthur with him to Genovia to meet the Queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to Amy for her beta and cheer-reading services

Arthur and Eames arrived in Genovia approximately 20 hours later, complete with a garment bag with Arthur’s favorite suits, a small suitcase of other belongings, and an extremely pampered grey cat named Penrose, who had a much larger suitcase of her belongings. 

“Don’t be nervous,” Eames reassured Arthur as they disembarked the private plane at a closed airfield. 

“Why not? You’re clearly nervous,” Arthur said.

“Yeah, but I’m the one who’s in trouble, they’re going to love you.”

“You don’t know that,” Arthur insisted.

“Oh, trust me—Your Majesty,” Eames cut off his sentence and immediately swept into a short bow to the older woman they had just approached. 

“Benedict, what were you thinking? You get away with a lot by being charming, but charm won’t fix this,” the Queen said in an exasperated tone. 

“Your Majesty, Queen Clarisse of Genovia, please meet my husband, Arthur…” Eames trailed off as he tried to remember Arthur’s last name. 

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t even know his name.” 

“No, no, I do, give me a second… Thermopolis.” Eames snapped his fingers as he remembered. 

Arthur awkwardly tried to bow as he was introduced to the Queen of Genovia. 

“Hello Mr. Thermopolis. Joseph will escort you to the visitor’s suite in the palace, if you will excuse us. My grandson and I need to have a conversation,” the Queen said graciously, as a fierce balding man stepped forward. Arthur assumed that was Joseph. 

“Anything you want to say to me you can say in front of Arthur, Grandmother,” Eames insisted. 

Queen Clarisse leveled a strict look at Eames that brooked no objection. “I’m sure Mr. Thermopolis is extremely tired from the transatlantic flight and would appreciate a chance to rest.” 

Eames looked slightly cowed, but stuck his chin out anyway and insisted: “He’s my husband. Please take him to my suite, Joe.” 

The Queen rolled her eyes slightly but waved, indicating her approval. 

“I’ll be along in a bit, Darling. Just make yourself at home,” Eames said to Arthur, brushing a quick kiss against his lips, then he braced himself for the lion’s den as he watched Arthur walk away. 

“Right this way, sir,” Joseph said to Arthur as he escorted him to a car (notably a different car than the one Eames and the Queen were getting into). 

“So, what do you do, Joseph?” Arthur asked, awkwardly. 

“I’m Her Majesty’s head of security, and you can call me ‘Joe’,” Joseph answered. 

“I’m a lawyer. Or I used to be a lawyer? I mean my bar registration’s still good in California, but I don’t have a job in California anymore, and it probably doesn’t count here, so I’m not sure it really matters,” Arthur rambled. 

“Yes, I know,” Joe said. 

“Yeah, head of security, you probably know everything about me, don’t you,” Arthur sighed. 

“That’s very likely.” 

“What’s my middle name?”

“Levine, your mother’s surname,” Joe responded. 

“That one was probably easy. Um, how about where I went to college?”

“Wittier College. You graduated _summa cum laude_ with a major in Political Science and a minor in Film Studies, and a GPA of 3.94.” 

“Okay, that’s creepy that you know my GPA,” Arthur insisted. 

“It was in your official records,” Joe shrugged. “You had a very long flight, we were able to do a lot of research in that time. The question we don’t have an answer to, is why you married Prince Eames.” 

“It seemed like a good idea at the time. Well, to be honest it seemed like a bad idea, but after getting laid off, my friend took me to Vegas and I decided to make the opposite of the decisions I would normally make, because being sensible wasn’t getting me anywhere. Jury’s still out on the good idea/bad idea thing. So far it’s definitely made my life more interesting.” 

“Hmm. We’re here. Let me escort you to Prince Eames’ rooms.” 

Shortly after he arrived, before he’d been able to do more than get Penrose settled in with a litterbox and food and water, Eames burst into the room. 

“We’ve been invited to tea,” Eames announced. “And when I say invited, I mean, instructed to come to tea.” 

“Right now?” Arthur asked. 

“No, at tea time. We’ve got about two hours.”

“So apparently the head of security knows everything about me now,” Arthur said. 

“Joe? Yeah, he does that. We need to wash up and change clothes,” Eames said, opening Arthur’s garment bag and hanging up his suits. “Do you have a preference, darling?”

“Um, how about grey with green pinstripes?” Arthur said. 

Eames rang a bell and immediately an older man appeared. “Miles, could you get this suit aired out for my husband please, and find something of mine that coordinates. We have tea with her majesty this afternoon. Just set it all up in the dressing room. We’ll want privacy. Thank you.”

“Yes, sir,” Miles said, bowing his head slightly and taking the suit that Eames had indicated. He silently walked back out the door. 

“Okay Petal, we should shower. Join me?” Eames flirted. 

“Um, who was that?”

“Miles, my valet. He’ll take care of the clothes situation. I have another situation I need your assistance with.” Eames waggled his eyebrows. 

“Does your valet know we’re about to go have sex in your shower?” Arthur hissed.

“Possibly? Does it matter, Darling?” Eames considered.

“It’s a little weird.”

“Everyone knew we were going back to the room to have sex after the wedding,” Eames pointed out.

“Okay, well now that feels a little weird too.”

“I bet I can make you not care about that,” Eames said, pulling Arthur into a warm, well-lit bathroom. 

“Not taking that bet,” Arthur said, a little breathlessly as Eames efficiently stripped. His chest was broad and well-muscled and covered in terrible tattoos, which Arthur found distractingly hot. 

“Mmmm, what was it you said last night? Take off your clothes, I want your cock?” Eames smirked as he reached in to start the shower. 

***  
Eames was pleased to see that Arthur obeyed with alacrity. He pulled Arthur in under the spray and kissed him gently before turning him around. 

Eames grabbed the soap and began washing Arthur’s back, marveling that this beautiful man was here, and was his. 

“Mmm, that’s nice,” Arthur said as Eames’ soapy hands caressed all over his body. Eames snuck a hand down to fondle Arthur’s rapidly hardening cock. 

“Very nice,” Arthur purred again, arching back into Eames’s solid body. Eames wrapped his arms around Arthur and nuzzled his neck, kissing behind his ear. Arthur tilted his head to give him better access. 

“Gorgeous,” Eames murmured as he sank down to his knees. He kissed down Arthur’s spine and then turned Arthur around and pushed him up against the shower wall. He was so lucky, Eames thought as he took Arthur’s cock into his mouth. 

“God, your mouth,” Arthur moaned, caressing Eames’ cheek as Eames swallowed him to the root. 

Eames had been told many times he had a mouth made to suck cock. And suck cock he did. He was good at it. Even if he was a disappointment in so many other ways, he’d never given a disappointing blow job, and he wasn’t going to start now. 

Arthur gently collapsed onto the shower floor after he came and immediately reached for Eames. He kissed him in the sloppy uncoordinated way of the well-sated and began stroking Eames. 

“Oh fuck, that’s it darling, you’re going to make me come,” Eames gasped as Arthur’s hand quickly brought him to the edge. 

“That’s the general idea,” Arthur said, smiling crookedly before kissing Eames again. Eames squeezed his eyes shut and came all over Arthur’s hand. He opened his eyes in time to see Arthur lick the spend off his fingers.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Eames whispered as his spent cock twitched. 

Arthur smiled smugly before kissing Eames again. 

“Now, I believe we have a tea party to get ready for?” Arthur said, hauling himself up and offering a hand to Eames. 

“I think party might be a little optimistic. Tea interrogation, perhaps?” Eames said as he stood. 

They quickly washed themselves properly and then hurried to get ready before their meeting with the queen.


	3. The Tea Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gets gently vetted by the queen at tea and they make an agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Amy for betaing. It seems that I will be updating on Sundays rather than Saturdays, but my plan is to keep up with a weekly posting schedule.

“Please, sit down,” Queen Clarisse said as Arthur and Eames walked into the garden, which was set up for tea. 

“Do I need to bow?” Arthur whispered to Eames. 

“No, it’s fine,” Eames whispered back. He walked over to where the queen was seated and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for inviting us, Granny.” He then pulled out Arthur’s chair for him and motioned for him to sit before taking his own seat. 

“Tea, Mr. Thermopolis?” Clarisse asked as she lifted the teapot to pour. 

“Yes, please, thank you, Your Majesty,” Arthur said, sliding his teacup and saucer back toward him. “And please call me ‘Arthur.’” 

“Joseph informs me that you’re a lawyer, Arthur,” Clarisse said, sedately adding milk and sugar to her tea.

“Um, yes, I am,” Arthur said.

“Ma’am,” Eames whispered in Arthur’s ear. 

“Ma’am,” Arthur finished. 

“What inspired you to practice law?” Clarisse asked as she elegantly sipped her tea.

“Gran, you don’t need to give him the third degree,” Eames said, picking at a biscuit. 

“I’m simply trying to get to know your husband, Benedict. Something I trust you did before you decided to get married? Do you know why he decided to go into the legal field?” Clarisse raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. 

“It’s fine,” Arthur said as Eames looked like he was going to respond with more heat than was necessary. “I went into law because I didn't want to be a doctor and it was expected that I become a doctor or a lawyer. I was actually in Vegas because I was laid off by my firm, so we didn’t really talk much about my profession.”

“That must have been difficult for you, to suddenly be unemployed.” 

“Well, it was mostly frustrating because I had worked really hard for my firm and they pretty much just dumped me when the economy had a downturn; which is historically not a great time to lose one’s job. But I have a pretty substantial emergency fund so I decided to take take the opportunity to reconsider some of my life choices.”

The queen nodded approvingly before she asked: “You appear to be a sensible and responsible young man, how ever did you end up getting married to a man you’d just met?”

“Well, Your Majesty, Ma’am, I used to pride myself on being sensible and responsible and making all the right choices. And it left me miserable, living in a city I hate, laid off from a job I didn’t even like, and rarely having time to spend with anyone other than my cat. Being sensible and responsible wasn’t working for me. So, I took a leap of faith and did the opposite of what seemed sensible and responsible.” Arthur looked over and smiled at Eames and reached for his hand. “So far it’s worked out pretty well.” 

“Arthur, may I speak frankly?” Clarisse asked, setting her teacup down. 

“Certainly, ma’am.” 

“You don’t know my grandson very well. And he doesn’t know you very well. You’re very different people, to say the least. I can assure you that marriage to a member of the Genovian royal family, even one not in the direct line of succession, has significant consequences which are not to be undertaken lightly. At some point, you will come to your senses and wish to be sensible and responsible again. I would like to jump ahead to that point and reverse this ill-considered decision so that the scandal can die down and be forgotten. There’s no need for you to be splashed across the tabloids. There’s no reason for this to overly disrupt your life.”

“It’s a little too late for that, my life has already been extremely disrupted since meeting Eames, but in the best way,” Arthur smiled fondly at Eames again, who looked vaguely stunned that Arthur wasn’t agreeing with the queen. 

“Granny, no, you can’t make us get divorced,” Eames said petulantly. 

“Benedict, no one is going to _make_ you get divorced, I’m simply offering to facilitate your inevitable split so that it can happen as quickly and quietly as possible,” Clarisse sighed. 

“But it’s too late for that,” Eames said, in a burst of inspiration. “We’re already in the tabloids. I’m sure they’ve already found out who Arthur is. Think about how bad it would look for a prince of Genovia to get married and divorced in the same week.” 

“We’ll just put out that you didn’t realize it was a real marriage, you thought it was a tourist attraction and never intended to get married.”

“I’ll look like an idiot,” Eames protested. 

“Well, that is what happened, is it not? It seems like the look might not be undeserved.”

“Your Majesty,” Arthur cut in, “maybe Eames didn’t realize it was a real marriage, but I did. I intended to marry him that night. I don't have any interest in getting a quick divorce and I don’t see our split as inevitable, as you put it. But I see your point about us not knowing very much about each other. Perhaps I can offer a compromise? We’ll spend a month getting to know each other and determine if we want to stay married after that. A divorce won’t be any harder or more scandalous in a month than it is today. Maybe even less so, because the media will have found something else to pay attention to by that point. We can stay here so you can determine my suitability, if you wish, or Eames and I can go back to LA. If, at the end of the month, we don’t think we will suit each other, we will cooperate with a smooth and quick dissolution of the marriage.”

Eames grasped Arthur’s hand tightly, but didn’t say anything, waiting for his grandmother to respond. 

She thought it over and slowly gave a single nod. 

“That is an acceptable compromise. You will stay here in the palace so that you can become acclimated with the expectations and sacrifices that come with marrying a member of the royal family. If, by some chance, at the end of the month we are all agreed that this is a suitable match, we will plan a proper wedding and I will grant my approval.”

Arthur let go of Eames’ hand so that he could extend it to the queen for her to shake. She looked at him and raised her eyebrows. Joe, who had been standing around the perimeter, listening into an earpiece stepped forward to explain.

“I believe he wants to shake in agreement on the deal, it’s a very common tradition among Americans.” 

“How odd,” Clarisse said, but she deigned to shake Arthur’s hand. He nodded firmly, the matter settled to his satisfaction. Eames looked overjoyed. They quietly finished their tea and then stood as the queen rose to take her leave.

“Benedict,” the queen said before she walked out of the garden, “this might be the best decision you’ve ever made, try not to cock it up.” 

Arthur looked at Eames in stunned surprise. 

***  
“I can’t believe you stood up to my grandmother!” Eames exclaimed once they had returned to his suite. 

“You stood up to her also. You said you didn’t want to get divorced. I just helped her to understand why doing what we want would be to her advantage.” 

“You made her shake your hand!” Eames continued, undeterred. 

“That was just sort of automatic on my part, I wasn’t trying to make her uncomfortable.” 

“She liked you. She _approved_ of you!” 

“I feel like I should be a little offended that you sound so surprised that I’m likable and approvable,” Arthur raised an eyebrow. 

“You don’t understand,” Eames explained, “no one in this family likes the things I like. And they _certainly_ don’t approve of the things or people I like. Yusuf is tolerated because he’s also a prince. They were very excited about my befriending him at first, until they found out became his friend because he had the best drugs at school.”

“What happened to Yusuf and Robert? Shouldn’t you have brought them back with you?” Arthur asked.  
“Nah, they weren’t the ones who fucked up and got summoned home. They wanted to stay and enjoy the rest of our Vegas trip. Although that’s probably wrapping up soon, I should check with them when they’ll be back.” 

Eames pulled out his phone and tapped it a few times before it started ringing. 

“Oi, Robbie, when are you coming back to Genovia? Aren’t you skivving off on your duties?” Eames said in a ridiculous sounding cockney accent before bursting into laughter and flopping down on the sofa.

“Yeah, okay. Well fuck you too, mate. You’re all set, though? And you’re bringing? Mmhmmm. Great!” Eames responded to whatever Robert said, sneaking a glance at Arthur. “We’ll see you the day after tomorrow, then. Safe flight.” 

“They’ll be back the day after tomorrow,” Eames told Arthur after he ended the call. “I’m sure we can keep ourselves amused until they’re back.” 

“Oh, I have no doubt of that, your highness,” Arthur said as he walked over to Eames and settled himself on his lap. Eames’ eyes sparkled with delight and his attempt to speak was cut off by Arthur’s kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome/I'm sorry for making you imagine Dame Julie Andrews saying "don't cock it up."


	4. Indecency is in the Eye of the Beholder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat antics and snuggles, sex, a wardrobe makeover, and more sex. Just your everyday schedule for newly married royals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again to Amy for beta help. She makes my writing better. I promise I haven't abandoned this story, I just got extremely busy when the school year started and never really stopped being busy.

The next morning, Eames woke to something cold on his nose and then something sharp on his chest. 

“Ouch,” he said opening his eyes to see a fluffy grey face staring at him intently. She nudged him with her cold nose again and meowed commandingly. 

“Get off, Penrose,” Arthur said, trying to push her off of Eames’ chest and take her place. 

Penrose meowed crankily and jumped right back onto Eames, kneading his abdomen with her claws. 

“Darling, I’m concerned I might be bleeding, can you do something about the cat, please.” 

“Mmmm, fine,” Arthur said, grumbling as he nuzzled closer into Eames’ chest. 

“Arthur,” Eames said again stridently, definitely not whinging because princes did not whinge. 

“Okay,” Arthur said, actually getting up. Penrose jumped down after him as Arthur slowly located her food bowl and a can of food. 

“There you go, your highness, are you happy?”

“Exquisitely, darling. The feeling of not being stabbed in the morning is highly underrated,” Eames responded. 

“Oh, I was talking to Pen,” Arthur said with a little laugh. “She’s my little princess and she knows it. I’d be happy to make _Your_ Highness happy, now that she’s occupied.” 

“I will be very happy if you bring your lovely self back to bed, now that you’ve saved me from the savage beast,” Eames said, raising the blankets a little. 

Arthur slid under the blankets and on top of Eames. Eames immediately wrapped his arms around him. 

“You feel like ice, darling.” 

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure as my husband, it’s your job to warm me up,” Arthur teased, rubbing himself against Eames. 

“Oh, was that in our marriage vows, I don’t recall that bit,” Eames thrust up against Arthur, letting him feel the effects of his squirming. 

“Well, you didn’t know that they were legally binding either, so it’s a good thing you have me here to help,” Arthur said, his voice breathy as Eames took them both in hand. “Mmm, just like that,” Arthur moaned as Eames’s thumb caressed the head of his cock, smearing the wetness that had already appeared. 

Arthur began to thrust as Eames held their cocks together, the marvelous friction rapidly bringing Eames close to the edge. 

“Arthur, you should stop if you don’t want this to be over very quickly,” Eames said.

“Why, do you have someplace to be?” Arthur asked as he thrust faster, clearly chasing his own orgasm. 

Eames groaned and threw his head back against the pillows, simply holding them together as Arthur vigorously thrust against him until he felt the warm wetness of Arthur’s release between them as Arthur collapsed. Eames rolled them over, gathering some of the come on his chest in his hand as he continued to jerk them both. Arthur made delicious noises as Eames used his oversensitive cock to bring himself off. Arthur was limp underneath him when Eames finally released him. 

“We’re all sticky,” Arthur said plaintively. Eames grabbed a tissue and half-heartedly tried to clean up some of the mess. He didn’t want to get up, he just wanted to snuggle deep into the bed in post-coital bliss with his husband. 

“Oh well,” Arthur sighed, curling into Eames. “Maybe we can make it to the shower in round two. Or three.” 

“Round three?” Eames asked.

“You got someplace to be?” Arthur asked again as a huge yawn overtook him. 

“Not at all. Just spending the day with my husband,” Eames said fondly. He pulled the covers up over them and drifted off to sleep, vaguely aware of the large purring lump that had taken up residence on top of his legs. 

***  
It turned out that they did eventually have someplace to be. Arthur had been scheduled for an appointment with Eames’s tailor, Joseph informed them briskly when he knocked on the door to Eames’s bedroom. 

“Just give us a few minutes, Joe,” Eames said, scrambling out of bed. 

“Oh, I’m not coming in there, Your Highness, this is just a courtesy notice that your tailor will be here shortly to supply Mr. Thermopolis with a selection of appropriate clothing options while he is your guest.” 

“He’s not my guest, he’s my husband,” Eames shouted at Joseph through the door. 

“Of course, Your Highness,” Joseph replied in a calm voice. 

The tailor turned out to be a man named Paolo with an outrageously fake sounding Italian accent. Arthur had worn one of his suits in preparation, hoping to make an argument for keeping his own clothes. 

“You Americans think this is professional?” Paolo asked, “Bah! It’s indecent! These tight trousers! You think it is okay for the queen to see you dress to the right? No! Paolo will fix!”

Arthur looked at Eames helplessly. 

Eames shrugged, “I rather like your tight trousers, darling.” 

“You may keep the indecent trousers for private,” Paolo interjected. “In public, you must dress as befits a member of the royal family!” 

“Wait a second, Eames doesn’t dress like this,” Arthur protested as he saw the suit Paolo was fitting to him. 

“Prince Eames is, how you say, the black sheep. Everyone knows he’s indecent.” 

“Well, I’m his husband, why do I have to be decent? And they’re not indecent, these are entirely professional suits; I wore them to court!” Arthur argued. 

“Her Majesty the Queen has given strict instructions to Paolo and Paolo will perform his magic.” 

“Eames, back me up here?” 

“I suddenly find myself not at all sad that your tight trousers will be for my viewing pleasure only,” Eames said, ogling Arthur as he stripped off the offending trousers. 

“Trust Paolo, you will look magnificent.” 

Arthur sighed and allowed Paolo to “perform his magic.” The resulting wardrobe was certainly stuffier than he would have chosen for himself, but it did have an undeniable air of authority and gravitas. He supposed that if he was supposed to be providing for stability for Eames in the eyes of the public (and the royal family) he might as well do it in high quality menswear.

“Wonderful job, Paolo, thank you so much for your assistance. I’m afraid my husband and I have an urgent appointment right now, so I’ll let Joseph show you out,” Eames said, practically pushing Paolo out the door of his suite. 

“What appointment do we have,” asked Arthur, confused. 

“This one,” Eames said with a growl as he pulled Arthur against him to feel the hardness of his erection.

“Mmm, yes, that appears to be extremely urgent,” Arthur said with a smile as he gave Eames a soft kiss before pulling him back toward the bedroom.


End file.
